


on the side of the road tonight

by squash1



Series: trc prompts [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Bickering, Driving, M/M, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 10:25:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16742239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squash1/pseuds/squash1
Summary: “Fuck, I think we’re lost.”All right, that does catch his attention.“Are you saying that just to be a shit?” Adam wonders, turning to face Ronan.





	on the side of the road tonight

**Author's Note:**

> not my best work, but hey ho, i had fun!
> 
> based on the prompt “It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” for @adamparrishes on tumblr.

“Stupid piece of shit!” Ronan yells at his phone. It keeps beeping with incoming texts. Maybe from Gansey. Probably from Declan.

They’re on a date. Well, not really a date but more of a late-night drive after stuffing themselves with fries and coffee at a roadside diner a couple of miles from Henrietta. Chainsaw must have been hungry, too, since she tracked the beemer all the way to the _Betty’s Paradise Kitchen_ parking lot. There, she pecked her beak against the window glass by their booth until Ronan sighed, wrapped his last two fries in a napkin and sneaked them out for her to gobble up. Adam laughed at the way the long cold fries wobbled before disappearing down her beak, and made a crude joke about Ronan’s private parts in the same breath. Ronan’s frown didn’t fully dissipate until Adam swung himself back into the passenger seat, pressed a kiss against his cheek and told him to drive.

Now, Chainsaw is hopping from one of Adam’s knees to the other, seemingly getting more and more agitated at Ronan’s swearing.

“ _Kerah_!” she croaks at his profanities, and Adam would stifle his laugh if he wasn’t starting to nod off into slumber in that moment. Instead, he lazily pokes Ronan’s shoulder and teases, “Yeah, don’t fucking swear.”

They’re currently somewhere in the mountains, Adam has no idea where exactly. If he was less relaxed or less sleepy, he might be able to recognise the road Ronan has taken them down. But the BMW’s heating is blasting just the right temperature of warm air onto his feet and the volume of the car radio is just comfortably low enough that he really doesn’t care to think about it.

Chainsaw hops onto the armrest between the front seats and Adam uses the opportunity to toe off his sneakers and pull his knees up to his chest.

“Adam.”

Ronan says his name with an undertone of wariness, but Adam can’t bring himself to reply with more than a hum.

“Fuck, I think we’re lost.”

All right, that does catch his attention.

“Are you saying that just to be a shit?” Adam wonders, turning to face Ronan.

Ronan grips the steering wheel and leans forward, out of his usual casually reclined driving position, as if to squint at their surroundings. He has slowed down considerably, but it doesn’t help much. In the sheen of the headlights, all there is to see are the trees to their left, the narrow dirt road, and the trees to their right.

“No, Parrish, for once I’m not fucking kidding,” Ronan hisses. He wrangles the car down into fourth gear, then third. Chainsaw croaks in annoyance.

“Doesn’t your phone have GPS?”

Ronan scoffs and digs around the driver side door compartment before tossing his phone at Adam.

“Huh,” Adam remarks. The lockscreen tells him that there are five new texts from Declan in Ronan’s inbox. And a Snapchat from Blue. Decidedly ignoring Ronan’s notifications, he unlocks the phone and goes to open the Maps app, but a pop-up banner tells him that there is no internet connection available.

“No reception,” he informs Ronan, who swears profusely and earns himself another chastising “ _Kerah_!” from Chainsaw.

“Can you just turn the car around and we’ll go back the way we came?” Adam suggests, handing the cell phone back to his boyfriend. Ronan snatches it from his fingers and throws it into the back seat with a frown.

“All right, fine,” Ronan grumbles, makes a three-point-turn and urges the BMW back down the road, dust raising behind them.

And so they drive for five, ten, fifteen minutes. Ronan takes a left, and they’re on a paved road again. Adam closes his eyes again, curled up against the passenger window. He’s almost dozed off when he hears Ronan swear, and the BMW grinds to a halt, gravel crunching beneath the tyres. Reluctantly, Adam opens his eyes and observes their surroundings.

Trees. A lot of trees, all around them. And a rather impressive pile of logs to their right.

“What’s going on?” Adam asks, but Ronan is already swinging himself out of his seat. Chainsaw follows him out of the driver side door, croaking delightedly as she stretches her wings and soars up into the night sky.

Ronan disappears behind the logs for a minute, presumably to relieve himself. Or to angrily kick at the trunks out of Adam’s sight, there’s really no telling. When he reappears, he looks strangely muted, as if his anger and frustration has dissipated into the darkness looming beyond the tree line. Adam rolls his window down.

“Are we lost?”

Ronan shrugs. A few feet away from the car, he stops his stride and throws his head back as if in deep wonderment about the stars. It’s an almost comical picture, Adam notes. Ronan is the only person he knows who would actually stop dead in their tracks to admire the galaxies and constellations mapped out above them.

It’s endearing, really, Ronan’s appreciation for nature, and the romance of it. It’s something Adam admires, and tries to adapt into his own perception of the world.

And then, Ronan is looking at him with a particular glint in his eyes.

“You know, the stars are out and they’re beautiful, but you shine so much brighter.”

Ronan’s voice is raw with honesty as he says this, and Adam feels a pang of anxiety bubble up inside of him only to fizzle out into a thin swarm of butterflies.

There’s no way for Adam to match this with a similarly delicate utterance right on the spot, so he decides to tease instead.

“It must be hard with your sense of direction, not being able to find your way back home _or_ to a decent pickup line.”

Ronan scowls at him, and Adam laughs.

“Fuck all the way off, Parrish,” Ronan bites, but all seems forgiven once he’s back in the driver’s seat and Adam’s in his lap, honking the horn by accident and snickering softly against his mouth.


End file.
